Page 94 of Backpacking through Bedlam

He turned to me, eyes bleak and haunted. “You knew we were clear of the blast before you threw the grenade,” he said. “I may not always trust you with your own safety. I trust you with munitions.”

“Thank you?” I said, not sure what else to say.

“But Alice . . . couldn’t you see he had a gun?”

There was no good answer for that. Yes, I’d seen the gun: it had been aimed at me. Sally had been on the opposite side of the room, not remotely in the line of fire. He must have pulled the trigger as the grenade exploded, his aim going wild. He’d been looking at me. Sally shouldn’t have been in danger. But there’d been a gun, and a bullet, and a finger on the trigger; once those things were in play someone was getting shot. That was the way it worked. My luck just meant it was rarely going to be me.

I’d been looking out for myself for fifty years. Thomas said he and Sally had my back now that we were all together. That meant I needed to figure out how to have theirs, or it wouldn’t be safe for them to be around me. “Be careful” didn’t only mean being careful about myself. It meant being careful with the people I loved.

All of that was too much for me to put into words, and so I leaned over, resting my cheek against his shoulder where the shirt covered his skin. Thomas slumped back in his chair, the heat that radiated off his skin slowly dying down, and we sat, alone, waiting.

Mary was gone, had been since we finished filling out the paperwork, off to check on the other two teams and how they were faring. It was just us, and it stayed that way until a man stepped into the room, dressed in blue hospital scrubs, scaly orange feet bare against the tile. That wasn’t the most remarkable thing about him. No, that honor was reserved for the wide, white wings that grew from his shoulders, primary feathers long enough that they nearly brushed his ankles. He stopped in the doorway, looking at us.

“We don’t normally treat humans here,” he said, voice stiff and somehow awkward. “But it seems your family is determined to be the exception to our admissions policy. Your daughter was shot in the chest, as I’m sure you’re aware. The bullet punctured her right lung and exited out the back. She’s awake and well, if you would like to see her.”

Thomas stood so quickly that he nearly knocked me over. “Please,” he said.

“This way, then.” The doctor turned, beckoning for us to follow, and walked away.

I followed. Honestly, I would have followed even if he hadn’t wanted me to. Caladrius are rare enough in the modern world that the opportunity to spend time with one, even professionally, wasn’t something I could pass up.

Now that we were in the hospital proper, it was much less brutalist, although no less industrial: the hall around us could have belonged to any hospital in the world. We even passed a few nurses and technicians. The only thing that made them stand out at all was that none of them were visibly human. This was not a human space.

I took Thomas’s hand, relieved that his skin was cool enough to touch, and held on as we walked the rest of the way to Sally’s room. The doctor stepped aside to let us go by. I smiled at him as we passed.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Just go as soon as you reasonably can,” he said, uncomfortably. “We prefer not to have humans lingering on the premises.”

Thomas didn’t pause for conversation, plunging on ahead while I followed behind. The room was boxy, square, and white, remarkable only in its lack of windows; Sally was in the single bed, propped up on a pile of pillows, wearing an unfamiliar scrub top that was only halfway buttoned. I couldn’t see any bandages, and she wasn’t hooked to any machines.

Hearing us enter, she looked over and smiled, wearily. “Hey, boss,” she said.

Thomas sagged with relief. “Sally,” he said, and crossed to the bed to enfold her in an embrace.

I stayed where I was, smiling at the two of them. This was my family now. This was where I belonged. Oh, maybe not in an underground cryptid hospital, but in the room where these two people were, holding on to each other and not letting go. I turned back to the doctor.

“Thank you for the gift of your training and your gifts,” I said, as formally as I could. “I know you risk discovery whenever you aid a human, and want to assure you that we pose no threat.”

“Miss Dunlavy tells me the girl was injured taking out a Covenant team,” he said.

“Yes. All going well, the other teams will be gone before morning.”

“Good.” He nodded, expression grave. “We’ve got deep roots in this city. I’d rather not sever them.”

“I can believe it.” I had so many questions, and this wasn’t the time for any of them to be asked. I turned back to Thomas and Sally instead, watching them. The local Covenant threat was neutralized for the moment. We’d provided the additional firepower necessary to clear out the teams in the city, and now the war was well and truly on, as if it hadn’t been before. Our cumulative scorched-earth approach would trigger a proportional response. The cryptid world might be exposed.

And maybe it was time for that. Nothing stays concealed forever. Not everything that’s buried is dead. I’d call Rose, see if she agreed that our job here was done, and if she did, Apple could send us a ride home.

“You okay?” asked Mary, stepping up beside me.

“Yeah,” I said. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too. What are you going to do now?”

“Well, first, I want to figure out how the world works and how to be a part of it again,” I said. “But I won’t be doing it alone, so that’s all right.”

“And I’ll be here if you need me. I’m only ever a call away, and I’ll always be your babysitter.”